This article was originally published by Everyday Feminism. It has been edited for YES! Magazine.

What would you say if someone offered you a chance to reduce the number of sexual assaults in your community?

I’m not talking about joining a crime-fighting squad or making a big donation to an anti-rape organization—but about taking actions in your everyday life that would make a difference in stopping sexual violence.

Would you do it?

Now what if I said this involves addressing rape culture?

I’ve encountered a number of people who agree about how awful rape is and why it needs to stop—but they hesitate at the words “rape culture.”

Rape culture refers to a set of cultural practices that allow sexual violence to happen and excuse it when it does.

In my experience, the people who hesitate at this concept are often—but not always—men. They feel as if the idea of rape culture puts unfair blame on their shoulders.

The way they see it, they’ve never raped anyone, and they consider rape to be a terrible thing, so why should they be responsible for doing anything about it?

I get that it’s uncomfortable to be associated with such a horribly violent act. If I say that you can make changes in your everyday behavior to help put a stop to rape, that implies that something about your everyday behavior might be contributing to rape.

And I don’t blame you for feeling defensive at that idea. But the problem is that defensiveness never actually helps us learn anything.

Personally, I tend to put my guard up as soon as I hear “there’s no such thing as rape culture.”

This comes from a place of self-protection, too—because all too often, that statement comes just before some hurtful victim-blaming and denying that rape is even an important issue.

Maybe you’ve been dismissing rape culture because you’ve misunderstood what it means.

But not everyone who denies the existence of rape culture is totally dismissive about rape. There are also people who are disturbed by sexual violence, but think “rape culture” refers to something they can’t get on board with.

So it’s worth it to at least try to get on the same page with what we’re talking about.

If you don’t believe in rape culture, I’ll drop my guard here and give you the benefit of the doubt. I’m sure you’d never actually condone sexual violence.

And as you read this article, I invite you to set aside any defensive feelings that might arise in you. Consider the possibility that maybe you’ve been dismissing rape culture because you’ve misunderstood what it means.

And hopefully, we’ll be able to meet in a place where you have options for making a positive difference, without the fears and hesitations that usually come up when someone says “rape culture.”

Let’s talk about what other anti-violence advocates, activists, and I really mean when we discuss rape culture.

Here are some of the most common things people assume we’re saying—and why these objections are misguided.

1. We’re not saying every interaction counts as rape

I’ve had people complain that the concept of rape culture offends “actual victims” by comparing seemingly harmless interactions to sexual violence.

And if we were actually making that comparison, I might understand this point.

For instance, men are participating in rape culture when they leer at me in public—but I’m not talking about “crying rape” just because someone looks at me wrong.

I am talking about recognizing connections between different things.

For the record, I’m one of those “actual victims” who has experienced rape—but I’ve never been remotely offended by the concept of rape culture.

Whether we’d like to admit it or not, the society around us influences our everyday thoughts, habits, and behavior.

Everything from how we take our coffee to how we parent children can be shaped in part by the culture around us—so why wouldn’t our approach to sexual violence be influenced, too?

For example, when someone frequently watches media that portrays women’s bodies as existing only for their pleasure, then it’s not much of a stretch to think that might influence their view of women in their everyday lives.

Maybe you wouldn’t feel entitled to a woman’s body without her consent—but that’s no reason to deny the broader connection between the everyday objectification of women that you come across and the violence that dehumanizes women as objects.

It’s not just women who experience rape—sexual violence affects people of all genders. But this is one example of how patriarchal gender norms can set up harmful expectations for women and other people who are treated like society treats women.

2. We’re not saying all men are rapists

I’m sure some people think they’ve just caught me blaming men.

“Aha! You mentioned patriarchal gender roles hurting women—are you saying all men are rapists?”

That’s not what I’m saying. Let’s unpack what this means.

You know gender norms—they’re our social expectations that everyone is a man or a woman, and that certain appearances, behaviors, and roles define what it means to be a man or a woman.

Think, for instance, about the difference between how boys and girls learn about sexual desire.

Many boys learn from the media, their families, and their peers that men naturally have strong sexual desires for women. And that men who “bang” lots of women are “studs.”

Women are socialized to believe they’re supposed to put men’s pleasure before their own.

Girls often learn from the same sources that their bodies arouse temptation, and that sexual pleasure is mostly for men. So women who “give their bodies up” to many sexual partners are judged as “sluts.”

You can probably understand how these norms can hurt everyone involved.

For instance, men who aren’t attracted to women, or who don’t desire lots of sex, get shamed and pressured into proving their “manhood” by objectifying women.

Women are socialized to believe they’re supposed to put men’s pleasure before their own.

For instance, say you see a pretty woman reading a book in a park. She’s alone, and you find her attractive, so you say “hi” and ask for her name.

It’s a simple greeting. You don’t mean any harm, and it’s possible that you won’t cause any. Some women don’t mind being approached in public.

But regardless of how this particular moment goes, here’s the unfortunate truth that relates to it: Lots of women and non-binary people know what it’s like to have strangers (usually men) invade our space in public.

So sure, some of us don’t mind being approached. But the woman you’re approaching might just want to read alone in a park, and even a conversation with a stranger can remind her that she’s constantly being objectified.

A helpful change can be as simple as making sure you’re reading someone’s body language.

Because—while you know that your intentions are innocent—she doesn’t know who you are or how this greeting might escalate to annoy or harm her. After all of the objectification, if all she can think is that she can’t even read a book without yet another person bothering her, then can you really blame her?

To be clear, I’m not accusing you of rape or of intentionally contributing to rape culture just by saying “hi.” And addressing rape culture doesn’t mean that you can’t ever be friendly.

But it does mean being aware of the conditions that women and non-binary people are dealing with, and understanding why our boundaries are necessary to protect ourselves.

Because you know what else is part of rape culture? Saying that we must be “exaggerating” about our experiences, and believing we just have to put up with it because that’s what gender roles dictate.

A helpful change can be as simple as making sure you’re reading someone’s body language and respecting their boundaries, instead of feeling entitled to their time just because they appear to be a woman in public.

That’s not too much to ask, right?

Is any of this different from what you thought the rape culture conversation was about?

Recognizing the invisible strings behind toxic social norms can be difficult. But if you’re really open to finding proof of rape culture, keep in mind what this term really means, and you’ll understand how it shows up around you.

We all have the power to contribute something to changing these conditions.

While these issues are complicated, the message of fighting rape culture is really quite simple: We’re all learning some damaging lessons about consent, and we need to unlearn them and stop passing them on to others.

Boys and men are being dehumanized by the pressure to be raging sex machines.

Girls and women are learning that their bodies don’t belong to them.

Everyone else is being forced into these narrow gender boxes and punished for not conforming.

And too many of us are survivors dealing with the awful impact of sexual violence, and the shame and judgment that follows.

Can we agree that this is detrimental all around?

We all have the power to contribute something to changing these conditions. We can check ourselves, talk with our friends, and listen to survivors.

Collectively, we could all use some healing from the expectations that society puts on our backs.

Denying the existence of rape culture is just getting in the way. If you can get through the discomfort of facing these hard truths, then you can definitely do something to help stop sexual violence.

No Paywall. No Ads. Just Readers Like You.You can help fund powerful stories to light the way forward.Donate Now.

Maisha Z. Johnson is the Digital Content Associate and Staff Writer of Everyday Feminism. You can find her writing at the intersections and shamelessly indulging in her obsession with pop culture around the web. Maisha’s past work includes Community United Against Violence (CUAV), the nation’s oldest LGBTQ anti-violence organization, and Fired Up!, a program of California Coalition for Women Prisoners. Through her own project, Inkblot Arts, Maisha taps into the creative arts and digital media to amplify the voices of those often silenced. Like her on Facebook or follow her on Twitter @mzjwords.